Little Red Riding Hood
by Niu Shiy-Ue
Summary: You can't tell me you saw RD and didn't immediately think of this!


Once upon a time there was a young man named Roger Smith, who lived in Paradigm, a city of amnesia. Roger Smith was known for two things; his penchant for always wearing black and his patronizing treatment of women. Make that three things, he was also known as the best Negotiator in Paradigm. But that was secondary to the first two things.  
  
One day, as Roger Smith was returning from another successful job he spotted a young woman walking through one of the worse parts of town. She was small and delicate and wearing a brilliant red cloak whose hood shadowed all but her slightly pointed chin and thin unsmiling lips. Now, despite or rather perhaps because of Roger's attitudes towards women, he had a tendency to be extremely protective of what he termed the weaker sex. As such, he could hardly have left the poor thing to walk by herself through the mess of riffraff and muggers that infested Paradigm's back streets. So of course, he stopped the car beside the young woman and got out.  
  
"Excuse me" he said. "I couldn't help but notice you walking here and I was wondering what a young lady like you was doing all by herself here?"  
  
She said nothing but turned her head slightly to look up at him. The light now revealed short dark red hair and a finely crafted nose.  
  
"Err" Her silence was beginning to get to him. "Where are you going?"  
  
Thin, blood-red lips parted. "To my Grandfather's house."  
  
"And who is your grandfather?"  
  
"Gordon Rosewater"  
  
"And what are you carrying?" he asked for he had just noticed the basket that hung off her left arm.  
  
"My Father, Timothy Wainwright sent some bread, butter, soup and wine for my Grandfather, for he is very ill." Suddenly the small grey head of a kitten popped up and peered up at Roger with wide blue eyes. The girl stroked his head. "Down Pero" she whispered to the kitten, which tucked itself back into the basket.  
  
"Cute kitten. Pero suits it perfectly." He gave her a sideways glance. "Out of curiosity, what's your name?"  
  
"My name is R. D. Wainwright."  
  
"My name's Roger Smith and I'm the best Negotiator in Paradigm. What do the R and the D stand for in your name?" No response. "Then where does your grandfather live?"  
  
"Out beyond the domes. His house is in the middle of a tomato farm."  
  
Now he was getting somewhere. "Hmm, well RD, that's a lot of stuff for one girl to carry and a long way to go when you're walking. How about I give you a lift in my car?"  
  
"No thank you, I will be fine. However if you know of a flower shop nearby could you direct me to it? I would like to bring a bouquet to my Grandfather, to cheer him up."  
  
"Suit yourself. There's one right across the street from us." And with that Roger returned to the car. While he was driving back home however he started thinking. Beyond the domes was a fair way to walk; by the time she started back it would be night and the streets of Paradigm were no place for a young woman after dark. Besides, it looked like it was going to rain later on. Perhaps if he went ahead and met her at her grandfather's place she might be more amiable for a ride home. He'd just go and pick up some flowers to alleviate any anger both on her and her grandfather's part and let his charm do the rest. He spun the car around and called his butler. The vidscreen in his car displayed an old man with one eye wearing a grey striped apron. "Good evening sir. I regret to inform you that dinner will be late tonight. I'm afraid something has happened to stove and I'm not entirely sure what it is yet."  
  
"That's alright Norman. I'm going to be a little late tonight."  
  
"Really sir I thought that you were already finished with the Wise kidnapping case."  
  
"Already collected my fee."  
  
"Then would you consider me impertinent to ask what causes your delay tonight, sir?"  
  
"Oh nothing much." Roger thought of a slim fragile figure walking alone in the rainy shadows. "Just a lady."  
  
"I see sir."  
  
It actually took more time than Roger expected, to purchase a small paper-wrapped bouquet of Amethysts, White Roses and Morning Glories, and to find Gordon Rosewater's home. When he got there, the sun was shining brightly, turning the fields a hard brassy red. As he approached the house, he saw an old man sitting in a rocking chair beneath the shadow of the porch.  
  
"Hello there!" he called out to who he presumed was Gordon Rosewater. "I'm R-"  
  
"Roger Smith. I've been expecting you."  
  
"Wha-how did you know my name?"  
  
"Would you like a tomato?" Gordon held one out to him.  
  
"Err, no thanks." He brandished the flowers. "I brought these for your grandchild; I met her while she was on her way here."  
  
"Very nice." Gordon turned back towards the house. "Dorothy, my nightingale, the Negotiator has brought you flowers."  
  
A red cloaked figure stepped out of the house. On her left arm was the covered basket, in the right she loosely held some flowering twigs of elder, poplar and nightshade. "They are beautiful."  
  
"How on earth did you get here before me?" She pushed back her hood, exposing all of her pale, somber face and dark, serious eyes. The kitten poked it's head out again.  
  
"Isn't she exquisite? My Dorothy, my nightingale." Gordon patted her on the shoulder then sat down again. "Here, take a whole basket of tomatoes. They're the best in all of Paradigm."  
  
"No I don't want any tomatoes! So, Dorothy, since I know what the D stands for, why don't you explain how you managed to beat me here when I'm in a car and you were on foot?"  
  
"Are you sure you don't want any tomatoes, Roger Smith?"  
  
"No, I don't! Are you an android? Does the R in your name stand for Robot?"  
  
"RD. It can stand for Robot Dorothy," she reached into her basket and pulled out a large handgun. "Or it can stand for" She smiled. It was neither sane nor pleasant. "Red Destiny. Too bad you didn't take any tomatoes Roger Smith."  
  
She fired. 


End file.
